


Magna Carta

by CassieHughes



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23718916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassieHughes/pseuds/CassieHughes
Summary: Aragorn faces a new conflict at the start of his rule. Not everyone is convinced that he has the best interests of the people at heart.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Magna Carta

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer = I own none of these characters or places and have taken liberties with both English history and Tolkien’s wonderful works in the writing of this story so if this troubles you I would suggest that you read it as A/U and accept that I mean no disrespect to either.

Springing into wakefulness Aragorn sat bolt upright, eyes bright and fully aware. His years in the wild had left their mark and the slightest sound now roused him almost before it has begun. This, however, was no slight sound. He glanced down to where Arwen slept beside him. Her long hair spread across the pillow, an inky pool, made deeper by the moonlight shining through the lightly cracked window opposite their too soft bed. Still sleeping. His heart filled with love as he spared a moment to wonder his good fortune before carefully extricating himself from between the silken sheets and rising stealthily to stand beside the window and gaze down upon the city below. The city which should have been asleep. Bathed in the peaceful glow of the moon. The only figures visible those of the night workers and guards going about their normal routines.  
There should not have been the glow of torches gathered together in an approaching conflagration of amber, the growing cacophony of voices, becoming louder, insistently carrying the mass of humankind behind the sound nearer to the palace in which he dwelt. Frowning he turned and silently crossed the room to the large chair over which lay the clothes he had discarded what felt like only minutes earlier. He dressed quickly whilst his mind wandered back to the conversation between himself and Faramir earlier that week.  
"I'm sure there is no need for concern Sire" The steward said earnestly. "The people are bound to be a little anxious after all that has happened but we are a sensible people and once they have had time to think..."  
"That is the problem, Faramir" Aragorn cut in gently. "There will be little time for thinking in the coming months. There is so much needs repair to bring the city back to even half its former glory." He continued, pacing across the wooded floor of what had been designated his new study.  
"And please Faramir." He smiled widely. "There should be no formality between us whilst we are alone. I would have you call me only Aragorn."  
"Yes Si..Aragorn." The young steward replied hesitantly before taking a deep breath to continue. "But once the work has started to show progress, those few naysayers will be shown to be naught but troublemakers and their words just idle speculation. We have ever had taxes to pay and surely they must understand the need for a little extra now." His face shone with innocent belief and Aragorn wished that he could feel the same way.  
"Would that I could share your certainty my friend." The king stated with a sigh. "But from all that I have heard from Legolas and Gimli there is an underlying tension in the streets that will not take much to stir to fever pitch if we do not act swiftly." He stopped pacing to stare at the large map of the city adorning the wall before him.  
"If only I could think of a way..."

A knock on the door brought Aragorn's wayward mind back to the present and he crossed the room quickly, anxious lest his beloved wife be awakened. He would prefer her to rest quietly, unaware of the strife that he knew was on its way.  
"Estel?"  
He should have known better than to think he could get away without her knowledge.  
Arwen's voice was heavy with sleep and in one swiftly elegant motion he moved back to the bed and bending down planted a gentle kiss on her pale forehead.  
"'tis naught my love." He murmured softly. "Go back to sleep. I shall not be long."  
Another kiss bestowed Aragorn turned and padded quietly towards the door once more just as another, louder rap rang out. Pulling it open abruptly he noted the startled jump made by the guard whose hand was still raised before him.  
“Ah!” The big man exclaimed. “Sire! I… um.” He swallowed as Aragorn tilted his head with a questioning smile. “There is a …”  
“I have seen, Alden.” The king swept past the stuttering guard. “Is the Lord Faramir awake?” His long legs powered him down the corridor as the guard fell in behind.  
“Wyot has gone to his chambers Sire.”  
“Good.” Aragorn replied without breaking his stride. “I will meet with him in my office.” He stopped and turned suddenly before continuing. “And Alden.” He paused briefly. “Please send to the kitchen for some of cook’s wonderful spiced mead.”  
With a nod of dismissal the former ranger then continued on his way, barely registering the deferential ‘Yes Sire’ from the guard who stood watching with kind regard momentarily before rushing away to carry out the King’s wishes.  
The office was chill, the fire only having been recently lit but having spent years wandering in the wilds Aragorn barely noticed as he stood by the window, eyes fixed on the wavering bank of flames that were so much nearer now, his mind wandering back in time once more.  
“With all respect S…Aragorn.” Faramir said solidly. “They cannot, and will not, blame you for all that has befallen us. Nay.” He continued boldly. “If it had not been for you and The Fellowship they would be under a far darker rule now.”  
“Ah, my friend.” Aragon smiled. “But memories are short and so are supplies at present. The city is in need but so are its people. Mayhap I must needs think how we can resolve both issues and bring us all together, let it be seen that I care for them and Gondor as if I had been born here. That they have not exorcised one dark lord to be ruled over by another.”  
The creaking of the door as it opened brought him back to the present and Aragorn turned to face the young Steward who entered, closely followed by a serving girl bearing a silver tray upon which sat a pair of steaming goblets and a platter of rich, buttery biscuits. He sighed softly at the spicy, sweet aromas tickling his nose as she crossed to the desk and laid the tray down upon it.  
“Many thanks.” Aragorn smiled at the maiden who bobbed a curtsey before quietly leaving the two men alone.  
“Here.” The king picked up one of the silver goblets and held it out to Faramir. “We have little time but this will help gird us against the cold when we face the oncoming coterie.”  
Faramir studied the figure before him, recognising the fatigue in the set of his shoulders and the lines drawn on his rugged face. His heart went out to this man, this king who had been born to the throne yet cultivated an air of ordinariness instead of entitled prerogative. Who had already given so much of himself to the world but still offered more.  
“I’m sorry Aragorn.” Faramir’s voice faltered with emotion as he absently took the proffered drink. “I never felt that it would come to this. We have ever been a proud yet stoic people. Ready to pit ourselves against any who would turn their hand against us but always loyal to those who govern and administer our laws.”  
“Aye, Faramir.” Aragorn said gruffly. “Yet Gondor has seen so much loss and grief.” His face seemed to grow even more sad and worn. “And the Steward who has held them strong for so long is no more. His successor supplanted by a stranger demanding they give even further. Is it any wonder they now feel bereft and unsure?”  
“That is no excuse for taking to the streets.” Faramir said forcefully as he joined his friend to gaze down at the city.  
“Nay,” replied Aragorn with a shake of the head. “Nonetheless, that is what they have done.” He turned his eyes to those of the Steward. “And the way in which we deal with them now is of great importance.”  
They both looked back through the window, mead cooling in the goblet’s held forgotten in their hands.  
“A charter.” Aragorn drawled slowly, running the word around his mouth as if to see how it tasted. “A promise for the future.” He continued. “A shared agreement between people and King.”  
Faramir frowned and watched as Aragorn strode away from the window with a sudden air of enthusiasm.  
“I’m not sure I understand.”  
“A way of showing the people that I will not rule by force of will, that I will only ask for what I myself am prepared to give.” Aragorn’s voice strengthened, and filled with animation. “That all taxes raised will go to pay for what is needed to repair and rebuild the city and aid the most needy.”  
“But we have never needed such a treaty before.” The steward protested gently, wondering at the growing sense of eagerness emanating from the man now pacing determinedly across the room.  
“Gondor has never been in this situation before.” Aragorn stressed without breaking his stride. “They need proof of my intent so I will gladly give it.”  
“This will need time to draw up.” Faramir’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. “But the mob below will have to be appeased now.”  
The noise from the crowd who had now gathered in the courtyard before the castle had grown to a thunderous roar and shouts demanding the ‘fleecing bloody foreigner’ come out to face them were increasing in both number and volume.  
“And I think I know how.” Aragorn smiled. “Alden! Alden!” He turned to the door and shouted.  
The door bounced off the wall as it swung open widely and the guard rushed in, sword drawn and ready to strike.  
“Sire!” He called as his concerned eyes scanned the room rapidly seeking the danger he was certain faced his lord.  
“Nay! Stand down.” Aragorn cried out as Alden swung his sword wildly in a circle, the tip almost grazing the end of Faramir’s nose.  
“There is no danger in here.” Faramir swiftly leaned backwards as he spoke.  
“Aye,” the King uttered assuredly. “I meant not to startle but need you to run an errand with dispatch.”  
The effect was immediate as Alden’s sword was swiftly re-sheathed and he brought himself to attention before the two commanders.  
“Make haste to the kitchens once more and ask the staff to gather together cups of wine and ale and any such food that is available for such a large impromptu gathering.” He smiled at the bemused expression on the guards face.  
“We will hold court in the courtyard whilst negotiations begin.” He continued. “Tell them to wait for my sign then begin to infiltrate the crowd with their offerings. Go. Quickly! There is no time to lose.” He turned his gaze to Faramir as Aldan bobbed a quick bow then ran swiftly from the room.  
“I am hopeful that if their anger can be quashed the majority will be happy to return to their homes once they have a little food and drink in their bellies.” He explained.  
“Leaving the ring leaders behind with which to discuss this Charter of which you spoke.” The steward said softly. “I see how your mind works, Aragorn and believe you have the right of it.”  
He caught sight of the flames from the fireplace reflected in Aragorn’s eyes and Faramir marvelled at the change in the man now standing before him. Gone was the figure bowed down with worry and fatigue he had first set eyes upon when entering this office. He had been replaced by a man filled with purpose and strength. Grey eyes glittered with anticipation and eagerness as if the challenge before him gave him life.  
“Will you stand beside me?” Aragorn smiled as he headed towards the door.  
“Gladly.” The steward replied and followed him from the room.

The sky was beginning to lighten as the two men, flanked by a pair of sturdy sentries, exited the palace through the large carved oaken doors to stand at the top of the stone steps leading up to the ornate entrance. Aragorn held out a hand in restraint as the guards made to move forwards to shield him from the crowd whose cries roared louder as they noticed his presence and surged forward, only to be held back by the phalanx of guards, who stood arm in arm at the bottom of the steps, blocking their way .  
“People of Gondor!” The noble tones of the king rang out across the courtyard, bouncing off and amplified by the surrounding walls. “Please, listen to me!”  
“There ‘e is!”  
“Robbing bastard!”  
“Swindler!”  
“Usurper!”  
Various voices shouted angrily from the surging tide of individuals and torches sputtered and flared as they were swept forwards as Aragorn raised his voice once more.  
“Children of Gondor. My brothers and sisters.” He called out once more. “Please. We have faced much during the past dark days but they are behind us now and this is the time for us to join together.”  
The crowd gradually quietened to a low muttering as his impassioned words continued.  
“Let us seek to set Gondor back to the glory it deserves. Working together we can rebuild this great city, make it shine once more. But we need to do this together.”  
He paused briefly to rake his gaze across the assembled crowd.  
“I know it will mean a thousand hardships and sacrifices.” He continued. “But if we all pull together they will be the lesser.”  
“It’s alright for you!” A single voice rang out from somewhere near the front of the horde.  
“What do you know of hardship, sitting nice and happy in your fine palace!” A wave of murmuring agreement swept over the crowd.  
“Aye!” Called another, more strident mouthpiece. “I bet your belly ain’t rumblin’ for lack of vittals!”  
“An’ I bet yer got plenty wood to burn fer keepin’ warm!”  
Aragorn scanned the crowd, trying to pick out the sources of the shouts that were once again stirring up the crowd into a noisome frenzy of agreement.  
“Brothers! Sisters!” Faramir’s voice suddenly cut through the clamour as he stepped forward to stand beside Aragorn.  
“I beg of you! Listen to me. You know me well. You know I would not steer you wrong.” The throng quietened once more as he continued to speak.  
“This man.” He gave a nod to Aragorn. “This man. Gondor’s King. Has already given much to save our beloved city from the grasp of evil. He has fought with men, orcs, goblins and the black rider’s. And won. He has faced the dark lord himself and never quailed or backed down. Some of you know this. Were there. At the gates. Have you forgotten so soon?”  
Stepping forward Faramir’s voice strengthened with heartfelt passion as he continued.  
“You say he has never known hardship. You think he doesn’t know what it is like to sleep with only the stars above for shelter. To forage for what he could in attempts to appease strident hunger pangs yet find naught for days. To watch friends and family massacred before him and be able to do nothing but avenge their loss. To stand, barely, exhausted to the bone, dripping in blood and gore only to find no respite, no water with which to wash away the stains before having to engage with the enemy once more. He knows all this. And more.” A slight hitch in his voice showed the young stewards barely controlled emotion.  
“This man. Your King, has known greater hardship than you can ever imagine, so do not say he knows naught of what you feel. He knows only too well and understands even more. It is as he says, with time we will rebuild Gondor. Restore her to her former glory. But for this we must all work together. And to show we mean all, he has devised a plan to ensure just that. ”  
At the beginning of Faramir’s speech Aragorn’s eyes had found Alden and with a discrete nod of the head signalled for the waiting servants to be sent out. He watched as they silently slipped amongst the throng, carrying large trays upon which were cups of wine and ale and platters of bread, meat and other comestibles which were taken up with alacrity by men and women alike. With an inward smile he took a deep breath then moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with his steward. Heart filled with love and admiration for the young man who had, once more, shown his mettle.  
“People of Gondor.” He began as the crowd cautiously took notice whilst emptying the trays greedily as they passed by.  
“I would draw up a charter, a contract if you will. Between myself and you, the people of this, our fair city. I would have you choose representatives to speak for you and put forward your wishes. I would promise, on my oath, to adhere to and uphold the laws set down within this charter which we compile together and will not hold myself above any contained within. Neither will I expect any other to be exempt, regardless of wealth or title, be they low or high born, native or newcomer. I will also promise that my household will not live in splendour whilst others starve. Food and drink will be supplied to any in need and my coffers opened to aid those injured and infirm to enable them to live their lives to the fullest possible. Taxes collected will be fairly calculated and allocated to rebuild the city and ensure all of our people have what they need to thrive.” He paused to allow his words to settle.  
“I would not see Gondor brought to its knees through miscommunication and distrust now, when we have come so through much. Work with me, with us,” he glanced briefly towards Faramir then continued forcefully. “And I swear we will come out of these trying times stronger than ever and ready to face whatever life has to throw at us in the future.”  
Silence fell as the last echo of Aragorn’s words melted away and for a moment it felt as if the world itself held its breath then sound returned, initially as a sighing murmur then building faster and faster to a roar, a wall of cheers and whistles which resounded around the courtyard, until it seemed the stones themselves sang out in harmony.  
A small victory and one Aragorn hoped against hope would be maintained. The people had been placated for now but in order to sustain their co-operation and unity a lot of hard work lay ahead. He turned to smile at Faramir and felt his heart lighten. With this brave, determined and loyal young man beside him he would navigate the paths of rule with more certainty and Gondor would at last stand tall and proud in the world once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note.  
> The Magna Carta originated as an unsuccessful attempt to achieve peace between UK royalist and rebel factions in 1215, as part of the events leading to the outbreak of the first Baron’s war. Although the kingdom had a robust administrative system, the nature of government was, at this time ill-defined and uncertain. The monarch of the time, King John and his predecessors had ruled using the principle of vis et voluntas, or "force and will", taking executive and sometimes arbitrary decisions, often justified on the basis that a king was above the law but he was already personally unpopular with many of the barons, many of whom owed money to the Crown, and little trust existed between the two sides. John met the rebel leaders at Runnymead, on the south bank of the River Thames, on 10 June 1215 where they presented him with their draft demands for reform. Mediation over the next ten days turned these incomplete demands into a charter capturing the proposed peace agreement; a few years later, this agreement was renamed Magna Carta, meaning "Great Charter." This first incarnation, effectively the first written constitution in European history, however, failed as a peace treaty but upon being reissued and amended the following year and in 1217 and 1225 is widely considered to be the foundation for the English system of common law.


End file.
